


All Is Not Yet Lost

by lady_needless_litany



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 22:19:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13199730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_needless_litany/pseuds/lady_needless_litany
Summary: Spock is still recovering from the loss of his planet...perhaps the reappearance of his childhood companion will help?





	All Is Not Yet Lost

It was mere days after the _Narada_ , fewer still since Kirk’s promotion to captain and the service held in remembrance of the fallen. Coming face-to-face with his alternate self had helped Spock come to terms with himself, but the loss of his mother and his home still stung, despite his best attempts to numb it.

The crew of the _Enterprise_ had been ordered to remain at the Starfleet base in San Francisco while the ship underwent repairs. Spock, mind now set on rejoining the crew, had been asked to teach at the Academy in the interim — though his work had been only on the _Kobayashi Maru_ up until that point, the Academy was familiar to him and they were in desperate need of teachers. 

He taught several classes, in both the science and command stream. As it had been when he was a student himself, his preferred subject was Tactical Analysis, which he enjoyed primarily because of the resemblance it bore to chess. The class, comprising mainly first-year students, was just after midday on Mondays and Wednesdays. Particularly dedicated cadets would often stay behind afterward to debate things with him; that was where Sarek found him.

On that particular day, it was early afternoon, but gathering storm clouds were steadily turning the room darker and darker. 

“Your point, cadet, is not a weak one, but you should consider–” he broke off mid-sentence as he saw his father at the door. They regarded one another for a long moment, then Spock dismissed his three remaining students. “We will continue this discussion next lesson. For now, I must ask that you leave. I need to speak to Ambassador Sarek.”

With assorted nods and mutterings, the cadets vacated the room, leaving the two Vulcans alone. Sarek approached the desk at the front of the room.

It was Sarek who broke the silence. “How are you finding teaching?”

The question was startlingly inane for a Vulcan, but Spock replied despite his surprise: “It is not my natural inclination. I find that many of my students are somewhat lacking in both commitment and common sense.”

“But?”

“It is rewarding, in a way.” Spock disliked the sentimental nature of the admission, but it was the truth. “And it seems like something of which my mother would have approved.”

Sarek nodded in agreement.

“Are you recovering, father?”

“Losing one that you love is difficult, especially when there is a mental bond involved. But, yes, I am recovering.” he answered plainly. “And you? I know that you did not always feel kindly towards Vulcan, but it was still your home.”

“I will not pretend that I have particularly missed Vulcan since I joined Starfleet. The others never ceased to regard me as an interloper. But I regret the fact that I will never see another Vulcan sunrise or visit the Learning Centre. Or have proper plomeek soup — it doesn't taste the same when the ingredients are grown on Earth. Or stroke a sehlat — I-Chaya’s presence always brought a sense of peace.” he said. “In light of my mother’s death, in light of Vulcan’s destruction, it seems illogical.”

“It is illogical, yes, but understandable.” He paused. “Although...I-Chaya was not on Vulcan.”

Spock merely tipped his head to one side, waiting for his father to explain.

“Your mother was yearning for Earth. We decided to relocate, temporarily, so I-Chaya was already in quarantine. Off planet.”

Spock seemed to struggle for words.

“Why did you not tell me?”

“About I-Chaya?”

“About moving to Earth.”

“Your mother was always very aware of your conflict about your human heritage. It was her desire that we did not distract you from your work.”

That seemed like his mother, always conscious of her children, first and foremost. Spock knew that he would not have survived his childhood without her gentle guidance, would never have seen the value in humanity or in being a child of two worlds. He recalled her voice, melodic and calming, as she read to him from _Alice in Wonderland_. He remembered her absolute faith in him and her pride when he had rebelled against the panel that had offered him entry to the Vulcan Science Academy. That only worsened the pain he felt. He could not erase the image of her eyes, wide and fearful as the ground beneath her fell away.

He spoke rather than allow his memories to overwhelm him. “Where is I-Chaya now?”

***

Uhura accompanied Spock on his trip. They were already in space, on their way to the _Enterprise_ , making only a minor detour to the quarantine facility; apart from his father and his alternate self, Uhura was the only one to know of his intention to rejoin the ship. The facility was part of the same installation that Starfleet launched its ships from — lucky, since the two of them needed to be on the _Enterprise_ that same afternoon.

It had taken several weeks to get the visiting request authorised, and even then it had only worked because of the combined influence of Christopher Pike and a Starfleet psychologist, the latter of whom believed that it “may help him come to terms with the disaster in a more positive manner” by “allowing him to access his repressed emotions”, thus “speeding his recovery exponentially.”

Uhura struck up a conversation as they navigated a series of identical, grey metal corridors.

“So, what exactly a sehlat?” she asked, curious. When Spock had asked for her company on this excursion, she hadn’t questioned it, just been glad that there was something she could do to help him; that was the strange but loving nature of their relationship.

Spock weighed his answer for a moment. “My mother used to describe them as ‘teddy bears.’”

“‘Teddy bears?’” Uhura’s scepticism was palpable.

“Yes. I always failed to see the resemblance.”

“So...they’re furry?”

“Their pelt is somewhat similar to that of a bear’s.”

“Cute?”

Spock sighed. He failed to grasp humanity’s obsession with ‘cuteness’.

“Yes, Nyota. I believe one could classify them as ‘cute’.”

“Y’know, I can imagine you having a cuddly pet teddy bear when you were younger. You're not as heartless as you’d like us all to think.”

Spock just sighed again. It could be interpreted as a petulant huff, if Uhura had felt like teasing him.

“They’re also deadly.”

“Well,” she said cheerfully, just as they arrived at the quarantine area. “I'd expect nothing less from Vulcans.”

***

It took them half an hour to clear security, a convoluted process that involved being sprayed with four different disinfectants. They were then escorted down several corridors that seemed even whiter and blanker than the previous ones. There was a pervasive, antiseptic smell. The guard seemed unimpressed with having to deal with outsiders, giving the air a sort of sour reticence.

The whole thing set Uhura on edge. Spock, of course, remained unperturbed.

They were shown into I-Chaya’s enclosure, left with strict instructions regarding conduct and time limits. The room was as soulless as the rest of the place. The floor and walls were clad in white tile, the lights fluorescent and harsh. A small window was set into the door, presumably so that the guard, standing outside, could check that they weren’t violating their terms of entry. A sheet of reinforced glass, currently opaque, bisected the space.

“Half an hour, don’t forget.” the guard warned once more, as he closed the door.

Spock nodded absently, his attention focused on the glass. He crossed the room to meet it. The divider turned transparent at the press of a button and, suddenly, Uhura’s misgivings melted away. 

I-Chaya truly looked like a teddy bear, with comically large paws and long, shaggy fur. He would easily have matched, if not exceeded, the dimensions of a lion. He blinked slowly as he raised his head to look at Spock, nostrils flaring. He was clearly ancient. One of his fangs was long and yellowed, the other broken, leaving a sharp stump in its place.

Spock crouched in front of him, separated by only a few millimeters of glass. Uhura knelt beside him. She gave him a few moments of quiet contemplation.

She gestured. “His tooth.”

“Yes.” Spock moved his head sharply, as if escaping a hypnotic daze, and settled back on his heels to relate the memory. “During my _kahs-wan_ , I-Chaya followed me into Vulcan’s Forge, even though I had instructed him to remain with my parents. I was attacked by a le-matya — a predator that is native to Vulcan.”

Uhura nodded, encouraging him to continue. Her knowledge of Vulcan was limited, given their people’s instinctive reluctance to share information about their culture.

“It would have killed me, had I-Chaya not been there to defend me. He sustained serious injuries, including breaking his tooth, and almost died from the le-matya’s poison. Even then, we would both have been dead if my cousin, Selek, had not intervened.” Spock frowned. “The affair was strange.”  
He pressed his hand against the glass and I-Chaya moved his snout to meet it. The bond between them was almost tangible.

Uhura chose her words carefully, not wishing to remind Spock of his peoples’ decimation. “Is he the last of his species?”

“No,” he said. “There are a few others, in zoological facilities, though they are spread over multiple Federation planets. I assume that steps will be taken to ensure that they are not the last of their kind.”

“I hope so.”

They fell quiet, the only sound I-Chaya’s heavy breathing. Uhura thought that Spock’s face was the most peaceful it had been in all the time she had known him. He had never seemed so human.

A quarter of an hour passed before she roused herself, then only because of a faint tap on the window. It was the security guard, she assumed, telling them that their time was up.

“Come on,” Uhura said, glancing through the window behind them. “They’re getting nervous, and we’ve got a ship to catch.”

Spock gave I-Chaya one last look, full of affection, before he rose to his feet.

“Yes,” he said, more strength in his voice than there had been since the destruction of Vulcan. “We do.”


End file.
